


Spray Paint and Starlight

by CourageSun



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Attempt at Humor, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Football Star Taichi, Forbidden Love, Gang Leader Yamato, I mean I think I'm funny, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Like Romeo and Juliet levels of forbidden, M/M, Motorcycles, Nerds in Love, Odaiba but not really, Percy Jackson references because I WANTED TO, Secret Relationship, Sloppy Makeouts, Taichi is adorable, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Yamato is too cool for school, i just want these two to be HAPPY, inspired by Riverdale, referenced gang violence, sorry for any formatting issues, taiyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourageSun/pseuds/CourageSun
Summary: Yamato’s eyes flickered to Taichi’s mouth, “Anywhere.”The ‘with you’ wasn’t spoken, but the weight hung in the air nevertheless. It was a promise. Their promise. The one they made to each other every night: slurred beneath the stars, whispered into pillows, shouted to the heavens. Reiterated by their mouths, their glances, their fists. The promise of leaving Odaiba and its stupid feud; leaving behind two years of forbidden romance and actually just having a romance. Some days it was the only thing that kept them moving forward - knowing that they could eventually move forward together.





	Spray Paint and Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there fandom family! I wanted to post this little plot bunny for Odaiba Day, but August is such a wild month for me with all of my students coming back. Soooo happy belated Odaiba Day!!
> 
> I recently binge-watched Riverdale and kinda fell in love with the whole Eastside vs Westside dynamic, and thus this little idea bloomed in my head. It's been a nice reprieve to go to when I get stuck on the major taiyama fic I've been working on, so I might revisit this world in the future :)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

By now the bridge was more spray paint than concrete. 

 

Tucked away on the outskirts of town, the Sakura Bridge was a sorry sight: the wood from the old train tracks was decayed and rotting, the support beams were burnt orange with rust, and the once rushing river below was barely even a creek, leaving the surrounding flora brittle and skeletal.    

 

Grandparents had painted elaborate stories about the bridge being a central point of their community back in the day. The Eastern and Western sides of Odaiba had been only descriptors, a way of explaining which side of the river you were on without any other connotation. 

 

Of course, that had been before the Mochizuki family built the dam that fractured the town in both physical and metaphysical ways.

 

Through a series of broken promises and unforeseen economic factors, the Westside slowly slipped below the poverty line as jobs and property were seized during the dam’s construction. Meanwhile, the Eastside prospered with a sudden boom in tourism and hospitality. A socioeconomic divide emerged almost overnight, leaving those on the Eastside manically protective of their earnings while those on the Westside stewed in their righteous anger and jealousy. 

 

Now Sakura Bridge, the bridge that had once connected a cohesive, booming metropolis, stood as a metaphor for the poisoned, deteriorating relationship between the two sides of the town. It was left to crumble and decay under the flickering street lamps, only receiving the occasional visitors looking for various forms of escapism. 

 

Only one such visitor was present that night though, and Taichi Yagami breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized their physique even from a distance. “Rika.”

 

Rika Nonaka lowered a cigarette from her mouth and lifted an eyebrow in Taichi’s direction. She was standing beneath the bridge, leaning her back against one of the concrete support columns. Her leather jacket and dark skinny jeans kept her protected from the fall chill. Taichi had never seen her smile, but her gaze softened in greeting, “Hey golden boy. Been a while.”

 

Taichi stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and met her calculating eyes with a crooked smile. “Yea. How’ve you been?”

 

Rika shrugged, raising the cigarette back to her lips. Taichi was too protective of his lungs to consider smoking, but Rika was one of the few people who made the habit look appealing. “Can’t complain. Didn’t make cheer captain though.”

 

“Their loss.” And Taichi meant it. Rika was the toughest person he’d ever met and worked harder than anyone at Westside High. He knew the Westside Warriors would be a force under Rika’s leadership.

 

“Yea, bunch of cliquey bitches.” Her gaze slid to his, “So what are you doing in this unsavory neck of the woods?” Her lips quirked into a smirk, “Getting your weekly taste of danger?”

 

Taichi made an effort to ignore the innuendo in her voice. “Naah something about condemned spaces just makes me feel alive, y’know?” He grinned in her direction, “And I saw some bats in here last time so I named them and now I feel like I have an obligation to check on them.”

 

Rika arched an eyebrow, “So you’re batmom?”

 

“....Ohmygod how did I not think of that.”

 

Rika rolled her eyes and Taichi thought he spied the ghost of a smile. “Because you’re an idiot.” She took the cigarette from her lips and dropped it to the floor, stamping it out with her impressively terrifying boots. “Well if you’re not looking to buy anything…” she lingered, waiting for Taichi to contradict her even though she knew he wouldn’t. “I’m going to continue making my rounds. You two nerds cramp my style.” She casually pushed herself off of the wall and Taichi caught a glimpse of the snarling wolf stitched into the back of her leather jacket before she turned to wink at him. “Nice seeing you, golden boy. Be nice if you gave us a warning the next time you go out of town, though. McBroody has been exceptionally grumpy all week.”

 

Taichi smiled, his heart squeezing against his ribcage. “Sure. See ya Rika.” 

 

“Night Batmom.”

 

Taichi watched as she disappeared beyond the treeline of dead sakura trees, a familiar ache settling into his chest now that he was alone. He dug his toe into the dirt and loosened some of the gravel. Telling his Westside friends about his game schedule -- hell, actually  _ talking _ to them beyond these clandestine run-ins -- would certainly be a different, but not unwelcome change. He knew Rika, and he’d gotten to know Daisuke and Ken through soccer, but he had been expressly forbidden from spending time with any of them outside of academic or sporting events. 

 

The reason? That leather jacket. The leather jacket that condemned them in the eyes of every Eastside parent. The leather jacket that was only given to those who had completed their initiation into the Westside Wolves.

 

The Wolves formed shortly after the dam as a way for the Westsiders to band together during a turning point in Odaiba history. Hiroaki Ishida was the current leader, and he owned a bar on the Westside that had become a sort of clubhouse for the gang. And although their gang activity was mostly benign -- recreational drug distribution, defacing public property, and the rare violent encounter with rival gangs -- the Wolves were rapidly becoming public enemy number one. 

 

Which was making it especially difficult for Taichi to see any of his Westside friends, let alone Hiroaki’s son and the future alpha of the pack, Yamato Ishida.

 

Taichi chewed on one of the strings of his hoodie and glanced down the sidewalk that led to the Westside. 

 

It didn’t use to be this difficult to see Yamato. It was only several years ago that they were practically permanent fixtures in each other's homes. But once Yamato adopted that signature leather jacket and Taichi was awarded a letterman, suddenly their parents were stressing about bad influences and loyalties.

 

So they went from using living rooms to using public spaces, and when that drew too much unwanted attention they started looking for more private locations. And then the infamous camping trip happened and…. well… 

 

They were lucky that they’d gotten plenty of experience sneaking around by that point that climbing into each others bedroom windows wasn’t a challenge. 

 

Taichi tucked his hands under his arms and wished that they were in one of their bedrooms right now. But Hikari was having a sleepover -- and  _ ugh _ he could only  _ imagine _ the type of reaction Yamato would have on a bunch of fourteen-year-olds -- and it was totally normal for Yamato to have at least two other Wolves crashing in his living room. So he was out here freezing his ass off to keep their relationship a secret.

 

While their respective sides could kindasortamaybe tolerate their friendship, this…  _ this _ could be just an additional thing to take aim at the Wolves. Taichi could practically see Mrs. Takenouchi’s headline:  _ Odaiba darling, Taichi Yagami, corrupted by notorious gang leader. How the Wolves are infecting our children.  _ And as Yamato clawed up the ranks of gang notoriety, any relationship he had became a liability.  _ Especially _ one that was not protected by the rest of his pack.

 

They were playing with fire; lighting a match that if one of them dropped would set off a series of TNT barrels. Hence the secrets, and the sneaking out, and all of the lies Taichi had told to literally everyone he knew and cared about. Because this was worth it. 

 

Yamato was worth it. 

 

Or at least that was what Taichi kept reminding himself as he sidestepped a massive spider web and ignored the glass crunching beneath his trainers.

 

“If I see any more rats in here, I am officially boycotting this spot…” Taichi sighed, attempting to read the graffiti to pass the time. Yamato wasn’t usually late, which naturally put Taichi on edge. The last time Yamato was late, he came stumbling in with a black eye and a fat lip; he’d been jumped by a pair of assholes in a rival gang. 

 

Just as Taichi was beginning to fear the worst, the sound of an approaching motorcycle broke through his anxiety. Narrowing his eyes, Taichi cautiously stepped out of the shadows so that the axis road was visible. Sure enough, a single headlight turned off of the main road and was speeding towards the bridge. Heart in his throat, Taichi backed further into the darkness of the bridge’s underbelly and pressed his back against a wall.  

 

Many of the Wolves drove motorcycles…. Did Yamato send someone? A terrible thought entered his head as he imagined all of the reasons Yamato would send someone in his place. Was he hurt?  _ Dying _ ? Taichi held his breath as the engine was cut just outside of view and the sound of boots and rattling keys echoed off the bridge walls. Maybe it wasn’t a Wolf at all? Maybe someone was looking to buy from Rika and just missed her? Surely they’ll see she’s not here and leave…

 

As adrenaline began coursing through his body in preparation to run, a startled yelp followed by a splash shattered the tense silence. “Motherf _ ucker _ !”

 

Taichi blinked in surprise, leaning away from the wall to get a better look at the figure now sprawled inelegantly in the creek. Was that --?

 

“Who the  _ fuck _ leaves empty bottles just  _ lying _ on the floor?” Yup. Only Yamato could manage  _ that _ level of indignation under a  _ decaying bridge _ . Almost laughing in relief, Taichi emerged from the darkness and took a moment to appreciate his cool and aloof boyfriend pouting in a couple of inches of mud and water. Of all of the nights for his phone to be dead...

 

Yamato Ishida pushed up onto his elbows and scowled in Taichi’s direction, “What the fuck were you doing all the way back  _ there _ ?”

 

“Staying out of sight like  _ you _ told me to,” Taichi rolled his eyes. “How the hell was I supposed to know that was  _ you _ ? When did you get a  _ motorcycle _ ??”

 

Yamato flipped a few muddy strands of hair out of his eyes and smirked, and Taichi wondered how the heck he managed to make  _ that _ look attractive. “Dad got it for me a few days ago. Pretty cool right?”

 

Cool was an understatement. Yamato was already a bad boy bombshell but this was an entirely new level of sex appeal that Taichi didn’t realize existed. Not wanting to give Yamato the satisfaction, though, Taichi arched an unimpressed eyebrow, “It was, but then I was abruptly reminded of the dork driving it.” 

 

Yamato scoffed as he stumbled to his feet like a baby giraffe. Deciding to have some mercy on him, Taichi neared the edge of the creek and grasped Yamato’s hand. With a few tugs, Taichi managed to pull Yamato out of the creek, using his forward momentum to ensure that Yamato stumbled into his arms.  

 

Yamato only stiffened for a few seconds before the tension melted from his body like ice exposed to a flame. He snaked an arm around Taichi’s waist and pulled him closer, contentment shattering his cool facade. Taichi  _ lived _ for these moments; actually  _ feeling _ Yamato’s cool exterior slink from his body was like a shot of alcohol: intoxicating, warm, dizzying… 

 

As though privy to his thoughts, Yamato released a breathy chuckle and pressed their foreheads together. His eyes roved over Taichi’s face, recommitting everything to memory after their extended time apart. Satisfied that there were no earth-shattering changes, he pulled Taichi further into him and buried his face into his neck.

 

“Missed me?” Taichi teased, running his hands through Yamato’s damp hair the way he knew relaxed him. 

 

Yamato responded by pinching his side. “How many more of these away-games are there?”

 

“Are they killing you?”

 

Yamato tightened his hold on Taichi. “I think we should make it a rule that you stay with me the night after you get back.”

 

Taichi feigned surprise, “On a  _ school night _ ? Yamato, are you some kind of  _ rebel _ ?” Taichi clutched a hand to his heart as though scandalized, “My parents will never surrender my dowry to a  _ scoundrel _ .”  

Taichi felt a thrill of victory shoot through him when he felt Yamato smile against his neck. He lifted his head and leered at Taichi, “And what’s in your dowry? Soccer uniforms and manga? I think I’ll live…” 

 

“To quote Mimi, ‘Um.  _ Rude _ .’” 

 

“You’re ridiculous.”

 

“And you  _ missed _ me,” Taichi singsonged. Not giving Yamato a chance to dispute that fact, Taichi leaned up and brought their lips together. Yamato smiled into the kiss, sliding one hand up Taichi’s side until he could cup his chin, angling it so he could slip his tongue into his mouth. 

 

The kiss stayed soft and unrushed. They used their stolen time to mold back into each other, angles and curves coming together the way they had hundreds of times before. Reminding each other of the smaller details that went forgotten when they were apart; like the soft scratch of calluses on Yamato’s left hand from hours of band practice, or the light dusting of freckles on Taichi’s cheeks and shoulders. It was almost a game at this point -- who could paint the most vivid picture of the other while they were apart -- a way to entertain themselves while they waited for a chance to escape their lives and find this time to live.

 

Taichi sighed in contentment when Yamato’s lips left his, their hands coming to rest in familiar, comfortable places; Taichi lazily wrapped his arms around Yamato’s neck, while Yamato kept a gentle grasp on Taichi’s hips. “Soooo your dad got you a motorcycle...”

 

“I think he felt bad about missing my birthday.”

 

Ouch. Taichi resisted the urge to wince at Yamato’s matter-of-fact way of discussing his father’s jail time. “Well,” Taichi bulldozed on, “at least  _ we _ were able to make the most of it.” Taichi winked lasciviously and Yamato tried valiantly not to look amused (and failed). “And  _ now _ you have this sexy new ride.” Taichi peeled himself away from Yamato but kept their hands linked as he walked over to inspect said sexy new ride. 

 

It was a beautiful piece that looked straight out of a 50s greaser movie -- classic in body and shape, but with a sleekness that assured its modernity. The color was the shade of blue the ocean turned before a thunderstorm; it reminded Taichi distinctly of a certain someone’s eye color…

 

“What’s her name?”

 

Yamato frowned, “Her name?”

 

“Oh my god,” Taichi languidly turned to face his boyfriend, disappointment oozing out of his pores, “have you not given your gear child a name yet?”

 

“.....my  _ what _ ?”

 

“You’re a neglectful parent. I’ll remember this for when we adopt our two and a half kids and our cat --”

 

“Dog.” 

 

“You’ll have to pry Miko out of my cold, dead hands.”

 

“Your cat hates me.”

 

“Well now that I see how neglectful you are towards  _ your _ children, I’m not surprised. Cats can sense that shit, you know.” 

 

“You know a cat will eat their owner after they die?”

 

“They have good survival instincts, I’m not going to instinct-shame them!”

 

“Is that the animal equivalent of kink shaming?”

 

Taichi’s mouth dropped open. “You know what. No. Rewinding this entire conversation.” Taichi turned back to the motorcycle to avoid Yamato’s smug smirk.  “So what are we naming your gear baby, Yama?”

 

“Okay, first, I need you to stop calling it --”

 

“Her.” 

 

“ _ \--that _ . Second, why can’t my motorcycle be a ‘he’?”

 

Taichi paused, thoughtful. “Hikari would say something like it’s a product of misogyny. And that’s a good point, you’re way more likely to be riding a guy.” 

 

“And  _ finally _ ,” Yamato resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Taichi’s shit-eating grin and waggling eyebrows, “why does  _ it _ need a name?”

 

“Be _ cause,”  _ Taichi groaned, exasperated. He grasped one of the handlebars and shifted it, watching the front wheel move, “it’s your travel companion. It will have a personality and quirks and all of that, so  _ he _ needs a name. I refuse to ride a nameless motorcycle.”

 

Yamato sighed, “If it’s so important, you name it.”

 

Taichi glanced over his shoulder and scowled, “I’ll intentionally name it something you’ll hate just to spite you. Like...Tim or John. Or,” Taichi’s eyes glinted with mischief, “Jun.”

 

Yamato’s eyes narrowed significantly. “Taichi.”

 

“She’d be  _ so _ excited you named your motorcycle after her. Wait, let me text Daisuke - hey!” Taichi yelped when Yamato smoothly stole Taichi’s phone out of his hand. “I was kidding! My phone’s  _ dead _ !”

 

Yamato held Taichi’s phone out of reach just, to use Taichi’s phrasing, to spite him, “We are not naming my motorcycle after Jun Motomiya. She’s finally gotten over her stalker phase and I am not starting that again.”

 

Taichi sighed when it became clear that despite their similar heights, Yamato’s arms were freakishly long and he would have to climb Yamato like a tree to retrieve his useless phone. “Okaaay,” Taichi sighed, rolling his eyes. “I see this is still a touchy subject. Sorry, I was just kidding.”

 

“Not funny.”

 

“Kinda funny.”

 

Yamato huffed but dropped Taichi’s phone back into his hand. “....what about…. Nevermind.”

 

“What?” 

 

“Nothing. Naming a motorcycle is dumb.”

 

Taichi felt his entire face light up when he spied a soft, pink blush spread across Yamato’s cheeks, 

“You’ve thought of a name! What is it?”

 

“This is dumb.”

 

“What’s the name?!”

 

“It’s not even that great.”

 

“But  _ you _ like it. What is it?”

 

“You’ll laugh --”

 

“Yamato,” Taichi grasped Yamato’s hands and squeezed, his voice mellowing out into a gentle coaxing. “What’s the name?”

 

Yamato’s blush intensified as he glared at the underside of the bridge, “.....”

 

“What --”

 

“Orion.”

 

“......”

 

“......”

 

“......”

 

Yamato let go of Taichi’s hands and started to take a step away, “See. I knew it was dumb --”

 

“No no no, Yamato!” Taichi laughed as he grabbed Yamato’s elbows. “I  _ like _ it. I was just expecting something…. edge-lordy.”

 

“.......”

 

“You know! Like, since you’re thinking Greek Gods, Hades or Styx or Erebus....” Taichi trailed off as Yamato stared at him incredulously. “...What?”

 

“....Erebus?”

 

Taichi blinked as though shocked by his own words as well. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively and huffed, “Okaaay, so I read those books you lent me.”

 

“The Percy Jackson books?”

 

Taichi shifted, “Yeeeea?” Taichi glanced back to where Yamato was standing and startled at how much Yamato’s face had softened. “Oh god don’t get all emotional, we both know I don’t know how to deal with it.”

 

Yamato laughed, stepping back into Taichi’s space so he could gently cup his face, “You’re… something, Chi.” Taichi felt heat rush to his face at the seldom-used pet name, which made Yamato’s smile broaden, “And you’re really fucking cute when you’re embarrassed.” 

 

Taichi bristled, but before the familiar argument could brew properly, Yamato quickly smothered his mouth with his own. Taichi attempted to push him away -- because kissing would not distract him from this argument  _ again _ , dammit! -- but instead ended up grasping onto the lapels of Yamato’s jacket when long, clever fingers pressed into the underside of his thighs and wrenched his legs off of the ground. “What’re you --?!”

 

“Stop being a control freak for, like, two seconds,” Yamato panted against his lips. 

 

“ _ I’m _ the control freak?!”

 

“Yes, now shut up and trust me.”

 

“You  _ dropped _ me last time we tried this.”

 

Yamato opened his mouth to argue, as he often did, that it wasn’t his fault that Taichi hit puberty before him and started retaining muscle like an Olympian. Instead, he pressed a soothing kiss against Taichi’s lips until his shoulders relaxed away from his ears.  

 

After some careful maneuvering, Taichi and Yamato were both straddling the motorcycle facing each other. 

 

“You know,” Taichi broke the kiss and lifted an accusing eyebrow, “I don’t think this is how it’s supposed to work with two people.”

 

Yamato chuckled as he dragged his hands down Taichi’s thighs, tucking them under his knees and pulling him more securely into his lap. “We definitely couldn’t ride like this. You’re too distracting.”

 

Taichi chuckled as he rested his elbows on Yamato’s shoulders, lacing his fingers together above Yamato’s head. “Soooo,” Taichi grinned, “where’s our first adventure?”

 

Yamato leaned back slightly, his smile suave, “Where do you have in mind?”

 

Taichi sighed dreamily, “A beach.”

 

“It’s almost winter.”

 

“Well obviously not  _ now _ . But we should definitely go to a beach.” Taichi closed his eyes and hummed, “The sun, the waves… we could finally get your pasty ass a tan…  _ and _ ,” Taichi lowered his voice a couple of octaves, “I’ve always wanted to try sex on the beach.” 

 

“Tch.” Yamato rolled his eyes, “I hope you mean the drink.”

 

“Buzzkill.”

 

“There’s  _ sand _ on a beach, Taichi. Think of where it can  _ end up _ .”

 

“Let me have my fantasy Yamato! You don’t see me raining on yours.” Taichi paused for a second and turned his calculating gaze on Yamato, “Do you even have a fantasy?”

 

Yamato met his gaze unflinchingly, “Which one?”

 

Taichi’s face split into the brightest smile, “Oooh that was good.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, “I’m so proud; your flirting has gotten so much better.” 

 

“My flirting has always been  _ fine _ .”

 

Taichi arched an eyebrow, “I thought you hated me before the camping trip.”

 

Yamato sighed, “We’ve already been through this. You’re just dense.”

 

“Lurking in doorways and glaring at people is  _ not _ how a  _ normal _ person expresses interest.”

 

“Well neither of us are normal, are we?”

 

“Apparently not since I fell for the same tactics that  _ serial killers  _ use.” Taichi grinned despite Yamato’s deepening frown. He gently kissed Yamato’s jawline and the corner of his mouth, peppering his way up Yamato’s face, lingering on the wrinkles that had formed between Yamato’s eyebrows until they leveled. “Okay Scowly-McScowlerson, we’ll talk more about that apparent list of fantasies after prom,” he winked. “But what’s your travel fantasy? Where do  _ you _ want to go?”

 

Yamato drew his lower lip between his teeth and Taichi knew that that was his cue to let Yamato ponder for a bit. While Taichi was one to say the first thing that popped into his head, Yamato liked to consider all of the possibilities before choosing the perfect one for the situation. And Taichi knew Yamato dreamed about traveling far more frequently than Taichi did; he wanted to see the  _ world _ . 

 

“I don’t really have a,” he paused to gather his thoughts, “ _ destination _ in mind. It’d be more like a journey that lasted several weeks.” Yamato squeezed Taichi’s thighs, “We’d find a trail or a highway that goes through mountains and valleys. Find weird local food and stay in shity motels. Makeout under the stars.” Yamato leaned forward into Taichi’s immediate space and reached his hands forward to grip the motorcycle handlebars; it did not escape Taichi’s notice that Yamato had effectively boxed him in. Yamato’s lips hovered just over Taichi’s, and they were sitting so close to each other that Taichi could feel the bass of Yamato’s voice thrumming through his sternum. Taichi swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat when he  _ felt _ Yamato’s words better than he heard them. “We could travel the California coast or go to Nova Scotia…. San Juan... The Grand Canyon…” Yamato tilted his chin up subtly and his lips grazed Taichi’s as he whispered, “You tell me where to go and I’ll get us there.”

 

And Taichi was fucking  _ breathless _ . He still wasn’t sure how Yamato could knock the air and the sense out of him without lifting a finger (he suspected witchcraft). Taichi tried to keep his voice as even as Yamato’s, but the conviction in Yamato’s voice and the body heat radiating into the underside of Taichi’s thighs had rendered him almost speechless. “Yea?”

 

Yamato’s eyes flickered to Taichi’s mouth, “Anywhere.” 

 

The ‘with you’ wasn’t spoken, but the weight hung in the air nevertheless. It was a promise.  _ Their _ promise. The one they made to each other every night: slurred beneath the stars, whispered into pillows, shouted to the heavens. Reiterated by their mouths, their glances, their fists. The promise of leaving Odaiba and its stupid feud; leaving behind two years of forbidden romance and actually just having a  _ romance _ . Some days it was the only thing that kept them moving forward - knowing that they could eventually move forward  _ together _ .

 

And in that moment, sitting astride their first tangible ticket out of Odaiba, Taichi could barely contain the surge of hope, love, and lust he felt in that moment, and, never one to hold back, acted on that impulse by surging against Yamato and crushing their lips together.

 

It was an inelegant kiss: teeth caught on each other, lips slipped and slid where they made contact, and tongues awkwardly bumped into each other. Yamato got too caught up in the kiss for the briefest of moments and the motorcycle teetered on the edge of tipping over, Taichi grasping and clinging to Yamato’s shoulders and then teasing him about his ‘thunder thighs’ until Yamato shut him up with another heated kiss. 

 

But  _ god _ if all of that wasn’t  _ them _ . 

 

Two awkward teenagers desperate to balance on the razor’s edge that they had carved into existence. It was messy and jagged, but these moments -- these stolen moments under flickering street lamps and surrounded by graffiti and broken glass -- made every stumble worth it. 

 

Because Taichi was Yamato’s light at the end of the tunnel; his motivation to work hard so he could leave this shithole town. Yamato was writing music again, was focusing more on school and less on his gang involvement, was saving up every penny he could so that one day he could pull Taichi onto his motorcycle and become a living, breathing romcom.

 

And Yamato was Taichi’s spark; that jolt that reminded him that he didn’t have to lead the white picket fence lifestyle that his parents and grandparents had chosen. That he had no obligation to Odaiba and should be free to pursue his own interests without guilt. Yamato was the reason Taichi felt alive again, and he had brought genuine joy and laughter into a body that had been hardening into a mold that generations before him had filled.  

 

Yamato drew back from the mark he was making on Taichi’s neck with a chuckle, “I’m definitely not getting that dowry at this rate.”

 

“Not if my parents see th _ AHHt” _ Yamato gave the bruise one last languid lick and Taichi lurched in Yamato’s lap, forcing Yamato to bite back a groan. 

 

“ _ Fuck _ , Chi.” 

 

“Your fault.” Taichi rested his forehead against Yamato’s and took a second to steady his breath, “We better stop. Remember last time?”

 

“The glass shards in my back? No, I’d completely forgotten.” Taichi wrapped his arms around Yamato’s torso and massaged his back in a silent apology. Yamato melted in Taichi’s embrace for a few beats as they both let their breathing return to normal. It wasn’t until Taichi’s hands began to still that Yamato moved his hand to cup Taichi’s cheek, “I mean it.”

 

Taichi smiled, the soft, shy one that others rarely saw. “I know.” 

 

“One more year, then it’ll just be you and me.” 

 

A mischievous grin sharpened the softness on Taichi’s face and Yamato braced himself. “Yep, just you and me --”

 

“Taichi,” Yamato warned, “we’re having a moment.”

 

“And Orion.” 

  
Taichi gently patted the side of the motorcycle, and Yamato wondered for probably the thousandth time how Taichi could simultaneously fill his heart with warmth and his head with exasperation. Sensing that this battle was already over, Yamato felt his shoulders slump in defeat and Taichi’s eyes practically glittered with triumph. Yamato leaned back so that his neck could roll with the full force of his eye roll before pecking Taichi on the lips. “ _ Fine _ . And  _ Orion _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed a little taiyama fluff! I had a lot of fun writing this. Let me know in the comments if you're interested in this world and if you'd like me to continue uploading to it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Love you all!  
> CS


End file.
